


A Different Sort of Rescue, Sort Of

by ForeverWhelmed



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Auctions, BDSM, Blow Jobs, But that doesn't change the fact that they are all indisputably assholes, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Crying, Dick gets along great with all of his exes, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Face-Fucking, Gags, Guilt, Human Trafficking, Light Bondage, M/M, Manhandling, Misunderstandings, Non-Sexual Bondage, Objectification, Spanking, Still they came to save him, Supportive Partners, Threesome - M/M/M, because I am predictable, gags again, hickeys & bruises, so that's something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:32:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverWhelmed/pseuds/ForeverWhelmed
Summary: When Deathstroke the Terminator gets word that a human trafficking ring is selling off none other than Gotham's Sweetheart, Dick Grayson, to the highest bidder, he knows he only has one chance to save him from the worst criminals the world has to offer. Luckily, an unexpected reunion with an old friend gives him a chance to turn the tables and free his boyfriend... with a few added benefits along the way.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Midnighter, Dick Grayson/Midnighter/Slade Wilson, Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Midnighter/Slade Wilson, Past Dick Grayson/Harley Quinn - Relationship, Past Dick Grayson/John Constantine, Past Dick Grayson/Raptor, Past Dick Grayson/Roman Sionis, Past Dick Grayson/Thomas Wayne Jr., Past Dick Grayson/Tiger, implied Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne, past Dick Grayson/Jason Todd - Relationship
Comments: 47
Kudos: 345





	1. A Less than Ideal Situation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withthekeyisking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthekeyisking/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Guys My Age](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25567273) by [withthekeyisking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthekeyisking/pseuds/withthekeyisking). 



> This is for WithTheKeyIsKing, who I blame for all of this. I especially blame them for infecting me with the idea of Sladicknighter after their incredible fic "Guys My Age" which you should go read. Apparently, neither of us could deal with the fact that there was only one fic in the tag, because they wouldn't stop bugging me and I actually wrote one. Originally this was all just going to be smut, but I had way too much fun with the plot part, so this is what you're getting. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Ticket?”

Slade handed the guard the innocuous slip of paper; a flimsy sheet of paper that didn’t do justice to the many thousands of dollars it had cost him or the sleepless night on a redeye from Kinshasa he’d gotten on just half an hour after hearing from his contact.

“Are you armed?”

Behind his signature black and orange mask, Deathstroke raised an eyebrow.

“What do you think?” He answered, and the guard seemed to realize that was not a rule worth even attempting to enforce. The guard finally stepped aside, pushing the door open to let him through. The door slammed shut behind him as Slade stepped into the dark room. It smelled like stale cigar smoke, but underneath there was the unmistakable iron-tinge of dried blood.

Slade scanned the room, cataloguing the small crowd in the hopes that they’d be easily intimidated enough for him to get what he came for without any trouble.

The first face he saw wasn’t a face at all, and Slade bit back a curse. The Red Hood’s signature red helmet was impossible to mistake for anyone else. But the sight of Black Mask with his arms crossed over the chest of his very expensive suit was even worse. Two of Gotham’s most notorious crime bosses vying for the same thing Slade wanted, that was very bad— both for Slade and for the thing in question.

With every face he passed, Slade’s hopes of an easy acquisition died a little more. 

John Constantine met his gaze as Slade passed him and there was a whisper in the back of his mind. This was hopeless. He’d never get what he came for; he should leave now and save himself the embarrassment.

Slade narrowed his eye and easily tore his gaze away. The mystic whispers in his head died immediately but Slade still fought back yet another curse. Even though Constantine called himself one of the good guys, he had a vicious streak a mile long and it was not pleasant to get in the man’s way. Whatever Constantine wanted with his prize, he was here to get it and was apparently willing to fight dirty. Unfortunately for him and all the rest of the people in the room, the only way that would happen was over Slade’s dead body.

Slade pushed past him, the picture of unintimidated confidence. They had all lost, just by virtue of wanting something that was already Slade’s.

He picked a spot against the back wall and leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest in a display of fake comfort. Slade had no illusions that this would be anything but a mess and he was ready to move the second this thing turned into a kill box.

He kept scanning across the room, noticing that Raptor, a high-profile assassin for the Society, was scowling furiously at him. Slade’s gaze slid past him, barely paying the man any notice. Raptor had gotten in his way once and it took more effort to resist the urge to kill him than to actually take him down. The “assassin” was barely more than a petty thief; his pain-immunity was the only notable thing about him.

The two standing in front of him were much more concerning. Slade couldn’t recognize the man; quite literally. Every time he looked at the man’s face, he catalogued the details the same way he did for anyone else, but the instant he looked away, he couldn’t call a single detail back to mind beyond the orange scarf wrapped around his head. That was alarming; Spyral was an agency with plenty of resources and the ability to make an enormous amount of trouble.

Even worse than the threat of Spyral was the chaos the woman next to him could unleash.

She was stuck in a loop, blatantly staring at the mystery man with a look of baffled awe before turning away, laughing hysterically, and starting the cycle all over again. Seeing Harley Quinn without the Joker was no longer the shock it once was, but seeing her here of all places? Slade couldn’t begin to imagine what the psychopath wanted, but there was no way he was going to let her get it.

The Harlequin’s eyes locked onto him and a smile spread across her face as she skipped across the room towards him.

“Strokey! Didn’t expect to see you here!”

“Do not call me that.” Slade growled, radiating hostility that the psychotic jester ignored.

“So, here’s the thing, Strokey, it’s great you’re here and all, but I already called dibs. D-I-B-S spells dibs, I saw him first, he’s mine.”

“What makes you think I care?”

“C’mon, don’t be like that!” Harley brought her hands up to pat the sides of his mask, and Slade caught her wrists in a tight grip. With a wink, she effortlessly twisted herself free and wiggled her fingers at him. “Hear me out, Strokey. These guys? A buncha pushovers and wanna-be’s.”

Slade most certainly did not agree with assessment. The Red Hood alone would be enough of a challenge to deal with, to say nothing of the assassins and crime bosses surrounding them. And dammit, that was definitely Talia al Ghul walking through the door, surrounded by a ring of Shadows assassins. If Slade couldn’t get what he wanted the easy way, it was going to turn into a bloodbath.

“Look, I know you’re a big tough guy, but you can be reasonable. I saw him first. If you back me up, I’ll make it worth your while. I mean, I’m a little strapped for cash right now, but I’ll give you a warehouse of Joker gas-bombs, an old blimp and a hyena. The hyena’s more of a babysitting thing, Bud’s got a fungal infection in his ear and I need someone to watch Louie while I take him to the vet. We got a deal?”

“What do you think?” Slade growled. Harley sneered at him, making a nasty face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“What’s the big deal?! I thought you liked ‘em younger than that, anyways.”

“You have two seconds to get out of my sight before I snap your neck.” Slade threatened, his voice low and deadly. Harley at least seemed to get the message this time.

“Fine! See what I get for playing nice.” She muttered as she stormed away like a petulant child put in time-out. Nothing about that was good; there was no way this would end without something going up in smoke. Slade just had to be ready to get himself and his target clear.

The door opened again and out of the corner of his eye, Slade watched Owlman stride into the room like he owned the place. Fuck. After the mess the Crime Syndicate caused, and the fact that Ultraman tried very, very hard to short him on his paycheck, Slade hoped to never deal with Thomas Wayne Jr. or the messed-up reality he’d come from ever again. Even worse, Slade had heard stories about the other man’s obsession with the alternate reality counterpart to someone he’d lost.

Slade bit back a curse yet again, choosing instead to be grateful for the fact that he’d brought plenty of ammo and sharpened every single one of his blades on the flight over.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming on such short notice. Since we’re all here, let’s get started.” The auctioneer began. Slade studied his face, committing every detail to memory for when the time came to clean this mess up.

Two enormous men came out on stage, dragging a man bound from head-to-toe between them. They deposited him roughly in the chair at the center of the stage, quickly and efficiently tying him to it. Slade’s last hope that this was a bad joke died when they pulled the burlap sack from over his head to reveal Dick Grayson.

There was no sign of a fight, no cuts or bruises marring his skin, but judging by the slightly green tinge of his skin and the extreme light sensitivity when the bag was removed, the drugs he’d been given had started to wear off.

Dick’s eyes were wide with panic as he squinted through the bright lights to look around the room, struggling against the ropes binding him in place. Slade wished he could take off his mask and look the kid in the eye to reassure him that everything would be alright, but it didn’t matter. Dick’s eyes locked in on his black-and-orange mask and he instantly stopped struggling, the panic fading from his face as his shoulders slumped in relief. Slade inclined his head, nodding at him while a relieved smile settled on his face under the mask. The thirty-thousand dollar buy-in was worth it just to see that the kid was okay.

Good. Now Slade just had to get him out of here in one piece so he could kill him himself.

The men left the same way they’d come, and once they were gone, the auctioneer wasted no time diving in as he stepped up to the podium.

“You all paid a lot of money to be here, so you’d better know who you’re buying by now. Bidding starts at a hundred-thousand dollars. Do I hear one-ten?”

Slade held back, content to wait until the last possible second to swoop in with a bid far greater than the current price. But… from the silence in the crowd, it seemed like he wasn’t the only one with that idea.

“Do I hear one-ten from anyone?” The auctioneer repeated, sounding far less enthusiastic and far more confused than he had a few seconds ago. “One-ten.”

On stage, Dick started struggling again, pulling at the ropes while he tried to push the gag out of his mouth. Slade shook his head subtly, trying to stop the kid from drawing attention to himself. He must have been bound tightly if he couldn’t pull one of his famous disappearing acts, which meant his best chance of getting out of here was to stay calm and wait for Slade to handle it.

“One hundred ten thousand dollars, from anyone?” The auctioneer’s voice had dipped all the way into concern, and Slade couldn’t find it in him to feel even the slightest bit of pity. He watched as the man swallowed nervously, glancing over at the bound captive on stage before looking at the back of the room where he knew the armed bouncers were standing just outside the door. It was clear he wasn’t anywhere near the top of the pecking order of this ring, and when they barely made anything on Grayson’s sale, he was going to be blamed for the colossal failure. Too bad for him, Slade didn’t care.

All he had to do was wait a few more seconds, then he would make it out of here with both Dick and his bank account intact.

Slade’s lip turned up in a smirk as he watched the bead of sweat drip down the man’s neck, and right as it reached his chin he swallowed and said, a little too desperately, “Do I hear one hundred ten from anyone?”

This was almost over.

Three.

The drop of sweat fell.

Two.

“Ah, what the heck. One-ten for that hot little piece of ass.” Harley Quinn piped up suddenly, licking her lips as she winked at the kid. The auctioneer practically slumped in relief as he pointed at Harley.

“I have one-ten over here. Do I hear one-twenty?”

Silence fell over the room again and Slade ground his teeth. He wasn’t the only one planning to wait for the last second. That meant this wasn’t over; every one of the dangerous psychopaths and criminals in the room had their heart set on making the son of Gotham’s wealthiest man their personal sex toy. And Slade was willing to do whatever it took to make sure that didn’t happen.

“One-ten going once. One-ten going twice.” The auctioneer said, raising his hand to declare the sale when he was interrupted.

“One-eleven.” The Red Hood said, raising a single gloved finger. Harley whirled on him, a mean smile stretched so tightly across her face it almost looked painful.

“One. Twelve.” She spat through clenched teeth. The Red Hood wasn’t phased in the slightest.

“One-thirteen.”

“One-twenty.” John Constantine spoke up before Harley could retort.

“I hear one-twenty, one twenty over here. Do I hear—”

“One-thirty.” Raptor nodded.

“One-thirty. Do I hear one-forty?”

“One-fifty.” The mystery agent from Spyral said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“One-fifty-one!” Harley Quinn snapped, trying to get control back. Black Mask raised a finger.

“One-seventy-five.”

“One-eighty.” John Constantine bid, and Slade did not care for the cold fury in his eyes.

“Two hundred.” That was Raptor again.

“Two hundred over here, do I hear two-fifty?” The auctioneer found his voice again, pointing when the Red Hood nodded. “Two-fifty over here, do I have three-hundred from anyone? Three hundred thousand dollars, yes, I have three hundred thousand here. Do I hear three-fifty?”

Three-fifty came from the Spyral agent, and a quick flurry of bids brought it to six hundred thousand dollars in a manner of minutes. When the auctioneer asked for six seventy-five, Slade began to see the cracks. Quinn was out. She’d admitted she didn’t have much cash to begin with, but she scowled when they crossed half a million and hadn’t so much as twitched since. Constantine was out too; the cold fury had frozen over and Slade could practically feel the rage pouring off him.

Aside from the obvious cues, Gotham’s resident mob bosses were getting nervous. The Red Hood’s small bids had seemed cautious at first, but now they were just pitiful. And Black Mask kept fiddling with the rings on his fingers, but the twitch grew more frequent as they neared seven-hundred. They’d be out soon. And it was only a matter of time before Raptor gave in.

Slade wasn’t worried about any of them. No, he was much more concerned by Spyral’s resources and the fact that he couldn’t read anything on their agent’s face. And much more concerning was the fact that both al Ghul and Owlman had remained silent.

Slade was patient. He could feel the crowd slowing, and as quickly as they’d reached seven hundred grand, it took another few minutes for the Spyral agent to carefully bid the next fifty thousand.

“I have seven-fifty, do I hear eight?” The auctioneer was practically beaming now, his earlier fear completely evaporated. When there was no response, the man nodded, raising his hand. “Seven-fifty going once. Going tw—”

“One million.” Talia al Ghul interrupted imperiously, inspecting the blade in her hand like everything else in the room was below her notice. After basking in the pause of shocked silence, she looked up with a triumphant smirk as if rubbing in the fact that she knew she’d already won. When she met Slade’s eye through his mask, the smug, self-assured smile on her face made Slade regret that he’d never been willing to take on the entire League of Assassins to get rid of her. Whatever twisted reasons she had for wanting Dick, it didn’t matter. She didn’t expect anyone to match and Slade was happy to prove her wrong.

“Two million.” Thomas Wayne Jr. beat Slade to it. The auctioneer let out a choked sound, but the Daughter of the Demon was faster.

“Three.” Talia countered calmly.

“Five.” Wayne again. The room held their breath as the two glared at each other, and despite how many dangerous, deadly people were present, no one was willing to break the silence. Even the auctioneer had gone quiet, staring at the two like he couldn’t believe his good fortune.

Luckily, Slade had never been the type to be intimidated.

“Ten million.” Slade cut in. The room froze, everyone tensing up all over again.

Talia al Ghul whirled on him, flames burning in her eyes and Slade matched her, completely unintimidated. Slade felt a dozen sets of eyes on him, hostile and suspicious faces, and he knew that they wouldn’t be able to see any emotion under his mask.

Good. They needed to know that Grayson was his and there was nothing they could do about it.

“I have ten million. Do I have eleven?” The auctioneer found his voice first, practically shaking with excitement at the unexpected bounty. “Eleven? Eleven from anyone? No? Ten million, going once? Going twice? Sold, to Deathstroke the Terminator for ten million—”

“You don’t have that kind of money.” Black Mask growled, cutting off the auctioneer before he could make it final.

“Don’t I?” Slade answered smoothly, dipping into the low register that he knew infuriated men like the Black Mask. Predictably, the mobster fumed, but he didn’t move. Slade turned back to the auctioneer. “I believe we’re finished here.”

“Like hell you’re taking him.” Someone spat, and then the Red Hood pulled a gun on him.

“You don’t want to do that.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I do, you disgusting old bastard.” The Red Hood’s voice was full of fury and his aim was steady.

“Find yourself a different pretty boy to stick your cock into.” Slade let his voice fill with smugness as he pulled his rifle, flicked off the safety and trained the weapon at the mob boss’s chest; Dick was his. None of these sick fucks were ever going to lay a hand on him. “This one’s mine.”

“Oh, fuck this!” Harley Quinn shouted suddenly, somehow digging out a bazooka from somewhere in her shockingly tight jumpsuit. She pointed it at the stage, aiming straight at Dick. Dick stiffened, shaking his head and emitting muffled yells from behind the gag. Slade froze, genuinely afraid for a second that the psychopath would shoot first and rage later. “I called dibs, you shitheads! Either I’m leaving with him, or nobody’s leaving here at all!” 

“You’re making a big mistake, love.” John Constantine said, eyes glowing as a yellow light burned into existence around his hand.

“Put that away!” the auctioneer shouted, eyes wide as he tried to take control back. On stage Dick was shouting through the gag, the words coming out as unintelligible sounds.

“Shut up!” The auctioneer spat, slapping Dick across the face. Instantly, Slade turned, training his gun on the man’s suit just above his heart. All around him, everyone in the room had drawn a weapon until they were locked in a crossfire. Slade didn’t move his gun from the auctioneer’s chest even as he calculated how many seconds he’d have if the Red Hood fired at him. On second thought, the sword al Ghul had trained on him was a much bigger threat. Dick’s eyes were wide, and he shook his head frantically as he tried to yell something at the crowd.

“I’m not paying for damaged merchandise.” Slade growled even as he tried to figure out a way out of this. It didn’t look good. He could get himself out, but there was no way to get to Dick without a hailstorm of bullets running down. And that wasn’t taking the rocket launcher or the mystic energy Constantine had summoned into account.

If he could get Dick free, the two of them would stand a chance. But Slade hadn’t figured out how to do that without getting the two of them riddled with bullets.

He never got a chance to figure it out.

A yellow portal rippled into existence behind the auctioneer and a man with a leather overcoat and a black cowl that covered most of his face appeared. Slade bit back a curse and kept his gun steady. Midnighter.

He and the antihero had parted on good terms— some might even say excellent terms— but Slade wasn’t the sentimental type. The supercomputer inside his brain made him one of the only people on the planet who could out-think Slade, and stopping Midnighter from getting to his target would take all of Slade’s attention and energy.

Considering the room of incredibly dangerous people surrounding them and the stalemate he was caught in, Slade didn’t have either of those luxuries.

But before he could do anything, the man took one look around the room and barked out a laugh, shaking his head with a grin on his face.

“How do you always get yourself into these kinds of messes, Grayson?” Midnighter asked. Dick yelled something that came out as indecipherable gibberish through the gag. Midnighter took a step forward, totally unconcerned as the entire room shifted their weapons to point at him. “Is that a bazooka, Quinn? You’ve got nice taste. Now as for you…”

Midnighter’s hand slammed out, grabbing the auctioneer by the throat and lifting him into the air. The man choked, clawing at the antihero’s gloved hand while his feet kicked in midair.

“You’ve either got to be the stupidest person on the planet, or the unluckiest.” Midnighter said, raising the auctioneer even higher in the air before turning him towards the crowd. Slade tightened his grip on his gun, ready to shoot if the antihero tried to hurt Dick. “You managed to assemble a room with some of the richest, most dangerous people on the planet. But you know that best part? There’s only one person in this room he hasn’t slept with, and she’s fucking his dad.”

The auctioneer’s eyes went wide as he gasped for breath, but Midnighter saved him the trouble by slamming his head into the podium and dropping his unconscious body to the ground.

All this happened in the time it took Slade to blink. Hard.

He looked around the room, taking in the surprised faces and realizing that Midnighter… was absolutely right.

The Red Hood whipped around, glaring at the men on stage while his weapons dropped to his side.

“Are you shitting me, Dickhead? You fucked Constantine?!”

“Oh, shove it up yours, Todd.” Constantine rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. The mystical blazing light was gone, and he reached for a cigarette from inside his overcoat.

“Hey, Wilson.” Midnighter called, drawing Slade’s attention back to the stage. “Guns down. No one here’s gonna hurt him.”

With great reluctance, Slade flicked the safety back on and stowed his weapon.

“Good boy.” Midnighter shot him a shit-eating grin, and Slade cocked his head, feeling his eyebrows rise. Was that really where his supercomputer brain saw this situation going? Because if so, Slade could definitely be convinced the night wasn’t a total loss. Meanwhile, Midnighter turned to Dick and pulled the gag out of his mouth. “You okay, kid?”

“You couldn’t have showed up an hour ago?” Dick panted, spitting like he was trying to get the taste of the dirty fabric out of his mouth.

“Yeah, he’s okay.”

“Wait, wait, wait! Lemme get this straight!” Harley Quinn threw up her hands, not a hint of the bazooka in sight. She punctuated her words with huge gestures and points. “All of us were trying to save him from all of us?!”

“I knew you had an extensive history, Grayson, but I didn’t realize just how impressive your count was.” The Spyral agent said, and Slade could see the relaxed posture as well as he could hear the familiar intimacy in the man’s voice.

“Go to hell, Tiger,” Dick spat, but there was no heat behind the words. Just tired relief.

“Well, now that that’s dealt with, let’s get you out.” Midnighter reached down to untie the ropes when someone cleared their throat loudly.

“Hang on a second. Let’s not be hasty, here.” The Red Hood removed his helmet, revealing a man with a domino mask over his eyes, a streak of white in his hair, and a devilish grin on his face. “We did come all this way for you, it seems like a shame to just pack up and go with nothing to show for it.”

Dick’s head snapped up, glaring at the other man with enough heat to melt a brick wall.

“Jason, I swear to god, I will—”

“I dunno mate, he makes a good point.” John Constantine agreed, lighting a cigarette with a snap of his fingers before sticking his hands back into the pockets of his grimy overcoat.

“Come on, Dickie! Be a good sport!” Harley grinned, making a kissy face.

“You pointed a rocket launcher at my face!” Dick retorted.

“I wasn’t gonna use it!”

“All in favor?” The Black Mask asked.

“Really Roman? Really?” Dick scowled.

“Sweetie, it’s just a bit of fun. For old time’s sake.” Black Mask—Roman? —put up a hand. “All in favor?”

With the exception of Dick himself, almost everyone put up their hands. Dick’s head snapped up as someone headed for the door instead of voting.

“Thomas? What are you doing?”

“I have no desire to bid for your attention.” Owlman chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “I know that you’ll come to me when you’re ready. But I will not deprive your other lovers of their fun.”

Dick growled as Thomas Wayne Jr. disappeared before deciding that Slade was his next best bet. He was sorely mistaken.

“Slade! Come on, I know you don’t have time for this. Let me out.”

Slade pulled off his mask so Dick could see the carefully controlled expression on his face that concealed his amusement. Barely. Now that he was confident the danger was truly gone, he saw no harm in letting this play out. After all, the result would be the same.

“You know I believe in democracy.” Slade answered smoothly.

“That’s not even true!” Dick sputtered, straining against the ropes. “Seriously, someone let me out.”

“Well, Richard, as it seems the danger has passed, I’ll be on my way.” Talia al Ghul informed him imperiously. She paused when she reached the door, an amused grin on her face as she turned to face him. “I’ll inform your father to call off the search, and that you’ll be available… in the near future.”

“Wait, Talia, don’t tell Bruce—!”

“She’s gone, kid.” Midnighter told him fondly, dragging a hand through his hair to ruffle it before he reached for the discarded gag.

“No, M, don’t!”

“Sorry, Birdie. I’ve been overruled.” Midnighter said before replacing the gag over Dick’s mouth and tying it tightly behind his head. The kid thrashed against his bonds, fire burning in his eyes, and Slade would be lying if he said the sight didn’t make his pants tighter suddenly. Midnighter leaned in, putting his mouth right next to Dick’s ear. Slade’s enhanced hearing allowed him to make out the whispered, “Don’t worry, I promise you’ll like how this ends. Scout’s honor.”

Midnighter straightened as he made his way to the podium.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the first annual Dick Grayson charity auction. All proceeds will be donated to the charity of this lovely little bird’s choice, and for your generosity, you could be the one to be his noble rescuer this evening. Let’s start the bidding at… fifty grand. Do I hear fifty?”

To nobody’s surprise, Slade won again. But this time, instead of death threats and guns, the others laughed and wished Dick a fun night as they filed out of the room.

“I’ll tell you what.” Midnighter crossed his arms when Slade was the last person left in the room. Slade noticed Dick craning his neck to try and hear, and he made sure to angle himself away so he couldn’t read his lips. “I’ll cover that last hundred thousand for you if you do one small thing for me. Plus, I can deliver him to your safehouse of choice, free of charge.”

Slade eyed him curiously.

“And what might that request be?”

Midnighter had a wicked smirk on his face as he answered. Slade let his eyebrows rise, knowing Dick would be able to see it and that he’d be even more pissed that he couldn’t hear.

“Oh, I believe that can definitely be arranged. I think you still remember the place.” Slade grinned before gripping the back of the other man's cowl and pulling roughly. Midnighter’s smirk grew as he leaned into the contact, letting Slade drag him around. Slade let his hand drop and turned his attention the unconscious body that laid where it had fallen. “I’ll meet you both there in a little while. I have a few things to clean up first.”


	2. And then they fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning again, there's no plot here. It's just porn. I hope that's what you're here for. 
> 
> I blame you for this. You know who you are.
> 
> When we left off, Midnighter took Dick back to one of Slade's safehouses while Slade cleaned up some loose ends. Let's get to it.

“What are you still doing here anyway?” Dick spat at Midnighter, struggling to get his arms loose. Midnighter flipped through the books on Slade’s reading table, lounging comfortably in the armchair against the wall.

“Giving to charity.” He answered casually. He thumbed through the rest of the book in about two seconds before picking up the next one.

“M, this isn’t funny. Let me out.” Dick gave up on trying to get any wiggle room in the ropes around his arms and switched tactics.

“Sorry, Birdie, I don’t have that kind of money.”

“M!” Dick whined, half protest and half pleading puppy-eyes that usually got M to roll his eyes and do whatever Dick wanted. But M just grinned at him.

“Do you need water? Anything of the sort? I can’t imagine you’ve had much opportunity for self-care today.”

“Yeah, actually, I need you to go fuck yourself!” Dick fumed, the amusement on M’s face fueling his irritation. He was starving and exhausted and his whole body ached from being tightly bound for so long. With great effort, Dick managed to turn himself onto his side and maneuver over to the edge of the bed. He stared over the side, debating if it was worth throwing himself onto the floor to attempt an escape.

His body let out an ache of protest at the thought of colliding with the hardwood, plus M clearly wasn’t going to help him up if he got stuck. And the bed was comfortable.

The fact that it smelled like stupidly expensive cologne and gunpowder—like Slade—didn’t hurt.

Dick gave up. It took a few minutes of uncomfortable, stilted maneuvering to get himself into a better position before he slumped back against the pillows.

“Can you at least turn off the camera?” He asked, voice resigned as he nodded to the tripod and the expensive camera aimed right at the bed. M snorted, a predatory gleam in his eye.

“Not on your life.”

The door opened, and Slade entered his bedroom. He’d changed out of his uniform, and from the looks of his damp, tousled hair, he’d just taken a shower. Dick was glad about that; he didn’t particularly want to be manhandled by Slade while the mercenary was covered in the blood of the man who’d kidnapped him in the first place. That being said, he didn’t particularly want to be manhandled at all right now.

“He give you any trouble?” Slade asked Midnighter, ignoring Dick completely.

“Not a bit. He’s getting a bit whiny though, you might want to hurry up and do something about that.” Midnighter answered, not looking away from his book.

Dick scowled.

“You’d be whiny too if you spent eight hours tied up.” He muttered. Slade stepped closer before pressing a fingertip under his chin, tilting his head back so Dick was forced to look up at him.

“Poor little bird.”

“Are you done yet?” Dick shot back, trying to pull himself away. Slade tightened his grip around his chin, pinning Dick’s head in place. Slade’s hands were rough and calloused and strong enough to snap his neck if he felt like it. That thought made Dick shudder with something as his eyes locked onto Slade’s bare hand, and it sure as hell wasn’t fear.

Dick was so used to Deathstroke’s gloves that it still took him by surprise every time Slade took them off. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about those massive hands pinning him down, tightening around his throat as Slade pounded into him, literally taking Dick’s life in his hands. It wasn’t so much that Dick minded the fingers digging into his chin (reminding him that Slade was the one with all the power), it was more that Dick’s entire body ached and he’d been tied up for so long he was worried about losing sensation to his fingers.

And besides, this wasn’t their usual foreplay with the promise of a truly spectacular night ahead of him. Midnighter’s presence made that very clear. This was Slade’s way of gloating, of parading Dick’s failure in front of an audience, mocking him for the fact that the mighty Nightwing needed Deathstroke to come save him.

“Done?” Slade said in that stupid, condescending voice that meant he was either very horny or very pissed. “We haven’t even begun.”

Dick stiffened as Slade’s hands slid over his skin, following the lines the ropes made across his chest and torso. Slade leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his jaw. He shuddered when Slade’s mouth traveled higher, nibbling on his ear lobe before ghosting over Dick’s ear.

Dick tried to brace himself for whatever filthy promises were about to come out of the mercenary’s mouth, but he definitely wasn’t expecting Slade to say, “Thomas Wayne? Really?”

Dick flushed, embarrassment suddenly flooding his entire body. Slade’s face was way too close to come up with any sort of meaningful response, so instead he shot back, “I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

Midnighter, still reading one of Slade’s books from the armchair on the other side of the room, let out a derisive snort. “Wow, Grayson, you really got him there.”

Dick felt himself blush even harder at the sarcasm.

“Let me go, Slade.” He glowered, trying to pretend the red heating up his face came from anger. Slade let out an amused hum, his fingers trailing over Dick’s shirt, making him shiver at the light touch. His fingers circled around Dick’s pec, stroking softly over his nipples before pinching hard. Dick couldn’t stop the strangled sound that escaped him as a thrill of pain shot through him, all the down to his crotch. Slade’s grip dug in and Dick’s breath caught as the ropes around his pelvis became uncomfortably tight. Dick let out another groan when Slade twisted before finally releasing him.

“Now that’s hot.” Midnighter said, finally putting down his stupid book. Dick shot him the best glare he could manage, trying to ignore the fact that he was already starting to get hard. His face was burning and it definitely wasn’t from embarrassment; he and M had slept together way too many times for that. Whatever Slade’s game was, Dick was sick of it. Slade’s hands knew every inch of his body, knew exactly where to press and where to ghost across to make electricity dance over Dick’s skin. Dick was sick of Slade playing dirty, especially when he didn’t even mean it. 

After all, M wouldn’t be hanging out here if he did.

“What is he still doing here, anyways?” Dick demanded, ripping his eyes away from the captivated look on M’s face and using all of his willpower not to look over at him again. Slade’s fingers resumed their gentle stroking across the fabric of his shirt and it was driving him insane. Completely insane. Dick had survived torture at the hands of some of the most twisted and despicable people on the planet and the tip of Slade’s finger gliding over his chest in a lazy figure-eight was going to be the thing that broke him.

“Midnighter has so kindly volunteered to help me teach you a lesson.”

“I’ll pass.” Dick spat, trying to ignore the way his stomach twisted in anxiety at those words. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them—which, considering the fact that he was currently tied up without his consent and neither of them had any intention of letting him out, seemed like something he should reconsider—it was that he didn’t like the thought of them ganging up on him. Either of them alone, he could handle. But this was new and Dick really didn’t think he liked it.

“Oh I don’t think so.” Slade said conversationally. “You see, there’s a lesson you apparently need to be taught the hard way. When you decide to use yourself as bait to catch human traffickers, there are going to be consequences.”

“Slade—” Dick managed to pull himself up with nothing but his core muscles, but almost as soon as he had, Slade shoved him roughly back down onto the bed so fast it made his head spin.

“I dropped everything.” Slade growled, suddenly sounding furious. “I flew twenty hours on a plane and dropped thousands of dollars just to have a chance at getting to you in time.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t ask for your help!” Dick retorted.

Slade’s hand snapped out, latching onto Dick’s chin tight enough to bruise.

“You were compromised.” Slade’s voice only sounded this sharp when he was furious, the clipped words revealing exactly how close he was to losing control. Even so, there was something in his tone that was holding him back and whatever it was made Dick shiver again. He told himself it was fear from the anger in the mercenary’s voice; his cock didn’t get the message. “Or was that part of your plan?”

Dick rolled his eyes.

“What, were you worried about me?” Dick shot back. Antagonizing Slade when he was this pissed was probably a terrible idea, but Dick didn’t care. He was tired and grouchy and still tied up and besides, Slade started it.

Predictably, Slade’s eye narrowed.

“I asked you a question, Richard.”

If Slade wanted to stop the games, that was fine by Dick.

“Slade, I’m not kidding. Let me out, now.”

“You’re in no position to make demands.”

Dick looked helplessly at M, but he’d gone back to scanning through Slade’s books. The hand on Dick’s chin tightened, literally pulling his attention back to Slade.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.” Slade growled, but this time there was nothing to temper it. Dick felt a thrill of fear run down his chest and his eyes locked onto Slade’s face like a compulsion. “I was prepared to spend millions so that you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life chained up at some maniac’s mercy. I think I’m well and truly justified in doing whatever I want to you right now.”

“You…” Dick swallowed, the threat suddenly all too real. “You can’t be serious.”

“Can’t I?” Slade’s voice was cold and the fact that Dick was well and truly bound, that he couldn’t get free on his own, was no longer just an inconvenience. Slade was a very, very, very dangerous man and Dick was completely at his mercy. The knife that Slade pulled out of thin air pressed ever-so-gently into the soft flesh of Dick’s throat didn’t help the budding panic. “I paid two million dollars for you, Dick. You’re all mine. I could keep you tied up here in my bed, have you whenever I want you.”

Dick stiffened, his stomach filling with ice. Slade wouldn’t… he would never… and Midnighter wouldn’t let him…

Then the pressure around his chest disappeared as Slade cut the ropes.

“But I won’t.” Slade grinned at him, the sadistic smirk on his face showing Dick exactly how much the mercenary had enjoyed his panic. The rest of Dick’s bonds followed until Dick was free to rub the feeling back into his wrists.

“You ASSHOLE!” Dick shouted, glaring as furiously as he could while his heart pounded in sheer relief. He pushed himself up to a seated position, ripping off the remains of the rope and taking extreme delight in throwing them onto the ground.

“I think a thank you is more appropriate.”

“Fine. Thank you for coming to save me from a room full of my exes. But in case you were wondering, I had it handled.”

Midnighter laughed at him while Slade’s eyebrows flew up in the air.

“Oh really?” Slade asked dryly, leaning back into Dick’s space. M looked up before carelessly tossing his book on the table.

“Yes.” Dick scowled as he pushed Slade away from him. “You know, this has been fun, but let’s just get coffee next time.”

Before he could climb off the bed and head for the door, a set of hands closed around his wrists and yanked him backwards.

“I know you’re impatient, but we’re not done yet.” M muttered in his ear, and Dick tried to pull himself free to disguise the shock of not having heard the man move, let alone settle onto the bed behind him. M’s grip was strong, way too strong for Dick to pull himself free. Dick glared at M, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out Slade was still the one calling the shots.

“What do you want from me?” Dick demanded, glaring back at Slade.

“I want an explanation.” Slade growled. “I didn’t think you were stupid enough to use yourself as bait for human traffickers, but clearly I was mistaken since that’s the only explanation I can see for how you ended up in this mess without any backup.”

“I didn’t use myself as bait, asshole!” Dick fumed. “We were staying away from the inner circle, I was undercover doing early recon and one of them jumped the gun. They didn’t even figure out who I was until after they grabbed me.”

“So it was bad luck?” Slade raised a judgmental eyebrow.

“Yeah, well joke was on them, they piled most of my exes into a single room to bid on me.” Dick retorted.

“And how exactly did they grab you?” Slade’s voice flowed like honey, mocking him and emphasizing exactly the right spots to make Dick feel like an idiot. If it had been anyone other than M sitting behind him with his familiar hands keeping a tight hold on his wrists, it might’ve worked. But M had seen Dick do far worse.

“I fucked up.” Dick answered as casually as he could. “Is that what you want to hear? Look, it was a small event, everyone had drinks, it would’ve been a dead giveaway if I didn’t have one.”

“So you let them drug you.” Slade sounded decidedly unimpressed.

“I didn’t ‘let them,’ I tested my drink four times. Yeah, maybe I should’ve tested it a fifth, but I had backup and everything turned out fine.”

“You allowed second rate human-traffickers to drug and abduct you from your carelessness.” Slade pointed out, sounding… less irritated and somewhat more amused at Dick’s expense.

“Slade. I fucked up. It happens. Besides, I had backup and I’ve learned my lesson about watching my drink at a shady event. Now you can stop it with the whole ‘embarrass me in front of an audience’ shtick.” Dick glared at Slade. It did nothing to get rid of the look on his face, and Dick couldn’t stop himself from adding, “And by the way, it wouldn’t have worked. M’s seen me trip on my face too many times for me embarrassing myself to have any impact.”

Dick punctuated the words by tugging at his wrists to free himself. But instead of letting go, M’s grip on his wrists tightened and he leaned in, pressing his lips right under Dick’s ear.

“Oh, that’s not why I’m here.” He whispered, and Dick could hear the diabolical grin on his face and he growled in irritation.

“Then why—”

He cut off as M’s lips travelled lower, and then his mouth closed at the base of his neck; hot and wet as he sucked a hickey into the skin. Dick barely had time to process the fact that his wrists were suddenly free when Slade pulled his face toward him and captured his tongue with his own.

Slade kissed like he fought; hungry and powerful and taking what he wanted from Dick. Usually, Dick could push back, respond in kind to the tongue dragging his own around or the teeth biting at his lips and the hand at the back of his neck that pulled him even harder into Slade’s intoxicating orbit. But usually, Dick didn’t have Midnighter sucking hickeys into his neck and pressing bites into the sensitive skin while his hands cupped Dick’s pecs, fingers rubbing over his chest and stomach and drawing up over his nipples and removing Dick’s ability to do anything but moan into it. His hand buried itself into Slade’s hair while the other gripped the back of his shirt, some tiny part of his brain catching on how huge Slade was, and that thought sent blood rushing right to his dick.

Slade pulled back, a hungry look in his eye that turned to amusement as he glanced down.

Without Slade’s tongue in his mouth, or M’s mouth doing mind-numbing things with his tongue, Dick’s brain finally had a chance to catch up.

Slade was watching him with that same smug look on his face, the bastard, and when Dick turned around, M had leaned back against the bedframe and was lounging casually like he wasn’t the reason Dick was going to have to wear a scarf tomorrow.

“What happened to being pissed?” Dick demanded. Slade shrugged.

“Since you didn’t deliberately throw yourself in harm’s way, you’re forgiven.”

“Great, so then all of that was just foreplay to you both tag-teaming me?” Dick demanded, irritation covering the fact that he was feeling very proud of himself for managing a thought that coherent.

“Unless you have any objections.” M grinned. Dick thought about the past hour of Midnighter watching him struggle without so much as offering to kiss the pain away. And especially considering the last few days he’d had…

Dick scowled.

“You seriously left me tied up while I could have been riding you? You’re unbelievable. You both are.”

“Are you going to let him talk to us like that?” M asked Slade with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“As a matter of fact, I don’t think I will.” Slade answered before climbing off the bed and Dick’s heart skipped a beat at the tone in his voice. Mostly because he knew exactly what followed it.

His fears were confirmed at the sound of a drawer sliding open, but when M dragged him forward suddenly into an open-mouthed kiss, Dick’s brain shut down all over again. M pulled him onto his lap, hands digging into his ass while Dick hungrily kissed him back.

He barely noticed as Slade climbed back onto the bed behind him, letting out a moan as M bucked his hips up, rubbing their cocks together as the mattress dipped under Slade’s weight. Between the tongue in his mouth and the friction from grinding into M’s lap, there wasn’t much room for other thoughts. But he definitely noticed when Slade grabbed him by the arm and physically dragged him off Midnighter so he was pinned against Slade’s back.

Dick let out a whine of protest, trying to pull himself off Slade.

“ _Slade_.” Dick whined, but he couldn’t stop himself from grinning; M’s kisses always took his breath away, leaving him lightheaded and dizzy and flat-out giddy. “You can’t just interrupt someone in the middle of making out, that’s rude.”

“So is insulting your rescuers.” Slade reminded him before pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Dick turned his head, trying to kiss him back, but Slade’s grip shifted and something hard pressed up against his mouth. Dick went cross-eyed to look at it and found himself starting at a gag ball. “Open up.”

“Oh come on! I was kidding.” Dick protested, turning his face away from the gag as he squirmed against Slade’s grip. “Slade!”

“If you don’t want it, just say so.” M reminded him. Dick felt his face flush, but at the reminder that they both would stop the second he wanted them to, he sighed. He let his mouth drop open and angled his head so that Slade could fit the ball gag into place more easily.

“Good boy.” Slade crooned, and Dick felt himself melting. Slade fastened the gag into place. “Hands behind your back.”

Dick obeyed, leaning away from Slade to move his arms behind him. As Slade’s calloused hands dragged over his skin to pull his wrists where he wanted them and wrap the leather cuffs around them, Dick revised his earlier opinion. It turned out, being manhandled by Slade was EXACTLY what he wanted right now. Especially considering the way M was looking at him as Slade moved Dick exactly where he wanted him.

“You never told me you had so many toys.” M said indignantly, still not moving his eyes off Dick’s body.

“You never asked.” Slade said, tightening the restraints around his wrists so that moving his arms more than a few inches made Dick’s back muscles ache. Of course, his mobility was not helped by the stiffness from spending most of the day tied up. Dick laughed at the irritation that flashed across M’s face, but when M saw it, he leaned down and suddenly his mouth was moving over Dick’s skin and he promptly lost all of his ability to think.

“How’s that, little bird?” Slade asked when Dick’s hands were well and truly secured. Dick tested the restraints, letting out an affirmative sound that sent a line of spit dripping down his chin. “Perfect.”

“Shame he’s stilling wearing all those clothes, don’t you think?” Midnighter said, a truly wicked grin on his face that made Dick’s cock twitch in anticipation. His heart skipped a beat when Slade produced a knife from god-knows-where and M leaned in to brush his lips over Dick’s ear. “Of course, out of the thousands of things that could happen next, you end up naked in all of them.”

A desperate sound escaped Dick’s mouth as he tried to grind himself down onto Slade’s crotch, but Slade held him firm.

“Careful.” Slade cautioned in a tone of voice that was just absolutely unfair, especially considering the way the tip of the knife was trailing across Dick’s shirt, just light enough to send shivers up his back. “I’d hate for my hand to slip.”

Dick let out a noise of protest as the blade tore through his shirt, and Slade laughed at him while M pulled off the shredded remains of the fabric.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” Slade promised, sounding amused as he pulled Dick against him. Slade’s chest was so warm against Dick’s bare back; it was like leaning against a brick wall, but much more comfortable and way more dangerous. M’s hands had moved down to his legs, undoing his zipper and pulling off his pants. Slade lifted him up to help and once Dick’s legs were bare, he set him back down. Dick let out a strangled sound as Slade settled him over one leg, his cock and balls pressed against Slade’s thigh.

“I’d have bought you a whole new wardrobe already if you’d let me.” Slade said, his finger moving up and down Dick’s leg and the gentle touch made his cock twitch with anticipation. “Not that I mind your habit of stealing all my clothes.”

“He does that to you too?” M grinned as he settled back onto the bed and Dick squeaked when Slade’s hands suddenly jumped to his bare nipples and twisted sharply.

“You know, for someone who claims to be one of the good guys, you’re quite the little thief.” Slade crooned into Dick’s ear, fingers tweaking his nipples and toying over the sensitive skin. Dick yelped as every jolt of pain sent a spark down into his crotch. “Luckily, I’m a good sharer.”

Dick couldn’t stop himself from snorting, letting out a sound that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but calling out Slade’s bullshit. M laughed.

“Is that so?”

“For some things.” Slade amended, his attention moving onto M with a dark, hungry look in his eyes. Before Dick knew what was happening, Slade grabbed M by the hair and dragged him in for a kiss.

Slade’s arm was wrapped tightly around Dick’s chest, effortlessly pinning him in place despite the fact that his attention was clearly elsewhere. M climbed onto Slade’s lap, one of his legs straddling Dick’s thigh until Dick was stuck in between them; his back pressed against Slade’s chest by his arm, and the scratchy fabric of M’s shirt rubbing against his chest. Slade growled, moving his hips up and pulling Dick with him as their mouths clashed; licking and biting and sucking and claiming each other with so much fury it made Dick’s heart pound. He was pinned in between them as they ground their hips together, all kinds of obscene sounds coming from their mouths.

It would have been hot if they weren’t completely ignoring him.

He tried to wiggle himself free, but Slade’s arm was like a clamp around his chest. There was nowhere for him to go, nothing to do but wait for them to break apart so someone would actually pay some attention to him already.

Dick let out a noise of protest, wincing as drool dripped down his chin and onto his bare chest. M ignored him but Slade’s hand squeezed Dick’s pec tightly. Dick leaned back against Slade, trying to at least enjoy the show they were giving him. Finally, FINALLY, they drew back, both breathing hard. Dick waited patiently, feeling himself harden at the sight of Slade out of breath and the slightly dazed look in M’s eye.

At least, he waited patiently until M’s hands moved back to Slade’s face and he leaned in again. Dick couldn’t wait any longer. He let out an impatient hum, trying to buck in Slade’s grip. Was it dignified? Not in the slightest. But it did get their attention, and M pulled back with a devious grin.

“Someone’s feeling left out,” M wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes roving over Dick’s bare chest before dipping lower.

“Well we can’t have that, now can we?” Slade responded, still looking so impossibly in control of himself. Damn enhancements. “Don’t worry Grayson, we’ve got plenty in store for you.”

Slade turned his attention back to M and his voice dropped into the commanding tone that Dick HATED how much he loved.

“And you. Strip.”

A thrill ran down Dick’s chest when M winked at him before drawing back to pull his shirt over his head. As much as Dick appreciated the sight of M fully nude, it was the easy submission to Slade’s order that made him shiver. Dick was used to M being in charge, and he couldn't have imagined how unfairly hot it was to see Slade take control so easily.

Dick’s attention turned back to Slade when he heard a cap popping and something being squeezed out. Then Slade’s finger probed against his asshole, very cold and covered in lube. Dick shivered and Slade laughed.

“You’re so needy, aren’t you?” Slade mocked, his finger stroking around Dick’s rim. Dick tried to nod and that’s when Slade pressed inside. At the same time, M wrapped a hand around his cock. Slade’s finger pushed in and out while M’s calloused hand started to stroke him, and Dick groaned into the gag as blood rushed into his cock.

M stroked him in time with the finger pumping in and out, using that stupid supercomputer brain to match the timing perfectly. This was cheating; Dick shouldn’t be this hard a couple seconds into a handjob and a single finger in his ass. But Slade was a cheater, a dirty, dirty cheater and there was nothing fair about the way his finger crooked suddenly, digging into the muscle and making Dick jump right as Midnighter tightened his grip.

Dick moaned, his head flopping back against Slade’s shoulder.

“Christ, look at you, Grayson.” M said, something like awe in his voice. “We’ve barely even started and you’re so hard for us.”

Dick mumbled something that was originally supposed to be “shut up” and came out as an inaudible groan. A second finger joined the first and Slade picked up the pace, scissoring his fingers roughly against Dick’s walls. It wasn’t long before Slade added a third finger, and as he pressed, M’s hand twisted, his fingers gently rubbing over Dick’s balls. Dick’s breath caught and he shuddered around the gag in his mouth, Slade’s grip the only thing keeping him upright.

M’s eyes flicked up to meet Dick’s; they were full of lust and hunger and Dick felt like prey trapped between two predators that were ready to eat him alive. His cock throbbed with sudden need and M didn’t disappoint, wrist flicking as his hand stroked up and down Dick’s length. Midnighter glanced up, a smug grin on his face as he made eye contact with Slade just beyond Dick’s field of view.

Slade shoved in, thrusting his fingers deep inside him until something brushed against his prostate and Dick moaned as sparks ran up and down his body, toes curling at the stimulation.

This was… this was…

“FUUUUUUchh” Dick moaned through the gag, panting as Slade picked up the pace, thrusting in and out as he stretched him, his huge, long fingers shoving against his prostate with every movement.

Midnighter pulled Dick toward him, Slade’s arm still pressed against his chest to hold him upright. M’s fingers stroked Dick’s cheek, so gentle and sweet and the part of Dick’s brain that could still think fumed at the gag in his mouth, because he didn’t want gentle and sweet; he wanted these two enormous, hugely dangerous men to hurry up and spitroast him already.

“Is this what you wanted, Birdie?” M pressed a kiss to his cheek, right where the leather strap dug in against the corner of his mouth.

“Mmmmm mmmm!” Dick shook his head, trying to force out the displeasure through muffled words.

“You want something else?” The look on M’s face made Dick shiver, all promises of things to come. Dick tried to nod, but Slade’s fingers slammed against his prostate and his vision turned white as a sharp wave of pleasure crashed through him.

“I think he’s ready for something else.” Slade withdrew his fingers and without them, Dick felt horribly, agonizingly, devastatingly empty. He let out a loud whine, trying to grind down against Slade’s hips. Midnighter’s hand drew away and Dick couldn’t contain his whimper as the grip disappeared while M climbed off the bed and settled onto his knees.

Slade lifted Dick up off his lap, easily maneuvering him to the front of the bed so he was facing M.

“On your knees.” Slade ordered and Dick obeyed, somehow managing to get his legs under himself. He was more than a little proud of the fact that his legs didn’t immediately collapse like the wet Jell-O they felt like, but that was about all the thoughts he had room for because then M closed his mouth around Dick’s cock, taking him in and sucking. It was hot and wet and it was M and it felt AMAZING. M’s tongue flicked against the underside of his cock and Dick moaned, hips twitching involuntarily. M’s hands settled against Dick’s thighs, his fingers tracing feather-light patterns against the bare skin that sent a shudder all the way up his chest.

M took him in deeper, sucking him down. Dick panted, drool spilling out of his open mouth and dripping onto his chest. M’s head bobbed in and out, drawing Dick deeper into his mouth. Dick moaned, the sound mirroring the obscene noises M was making as he went down on him. M was incredible at everything he did, so it shouldn’t have surprised Dick that sucking cock was one of them. But somehow, Dick was still blown away every single time. Something pressed against his hole and Dick choked around the gag as Slade’s cock suddenly slammed in. Even with the prep and generous amount of lube, Slade was still enormous and the stretch burned, lighting up Dick’s nerves exactly the way he liked. 

And with Slade filling him up and M’s mouth around him, it was unreal.

Slade set the pace, pushing in and out and dragging Dick with him. M gagged as Dick’s cock rammed down his throat. Dick let out a strangled moan as his brain was overloaded with sensations. Between the warm, tight muscles sliding over his dick, and the massive cock filling him up and stretching him out as Slade fucked him, there wasn’t room for any thoughts beyond, “FUCK YES.”

The hand on his shoulder was the only thing keeping him upright as Slade used him to fuck M’s mouth.

“Not so chatty now?” Slade asked as he slammed against Dick’s prostate and pushed him even deeper into M’s mouth. M let out a choked sound as he gagged on Dick’s cock, his lips stretched wide and a look of hazy ecstasy in his eyes. Dick wasn’t sure if it was possible, but he felt himself get even harder. “You try to be so tough, but this is where you really belong, isn’t it? On your knees, choking on a cock.”

It took Dick a second to realize that Slade wasn’t talking to him. Somehow, he managed to turn his head to see that all of Slade’s attention was on M, his eye narrowed with so much intensity it made Dick’s heart pound.

Without taking his eye off M, the hand on Dick’s shoulder jumped to his chin and roughly yanked, forcing him to look straight ahead again.

Slade was using him.

God that was… that was so fucking hot. Shit, if Dick didn’t already have an objectification kink, he definitely had one now.

Dick felt himself trembling, so close to the edge he didn’t know how he hadn’t already fallen.

“That’s what you’re good for.” Slade mocked as he forced Dick up and down M’s throat. “Sucking cock like the needy little boy you are.”

M let out a choked sound when Slade slammed in, forcing the muscles of his throat to relax in a herculean display of control.

“That’s it, boy. Choke on it.”

Slade’s voice was so smug, so completely in control while he used Dick like an object to put M in his place and the sound of it swelled inside him, bringing the heady, overwhelming rush of sensations to a head. Dick came with a shout, emptying down M’s throat.

Slade held Dick there, forcing M to swallow every drop of it down, before dragging Dick backwards and out of M’s mouth. M pulled back easily, only the slightest rise and fall of his chest betraying how hard Slade had fucked his throat. Damn metahumans. Dick was more than a little jealous.

M wasted no time licking a line up Dick’s cock and pressing a kiss into the inside of his thigh. Dick slumped, letting his head fall back again Slade’s chest. Slade’s cock was still buried inside him, rock hard against his walls. He groaned again, trying to grind down into Slade’s lap.

“What do you want, pretty bird?” Slade’s hand circled his stomach while his other hand tightened around Dick’s neck. "You want to suck my cock?" 

Dick’s eyes widened at the thought of Slade using him the way he’d just used M and nodded frantically, panting through his nose as he fought back a whine. M’s tongue was flitting around his slit, doing things that fried Dick’s brain and he desperately wanted both of them to do mind-blowing things to him. In a smooth motion, Slade lifted Dick off him as he pulled out. Dick’s hole ached but he felt so empty without a cock filling him and the slight breeze moving past didn’t help.

Slade easily turned him around, setting him on his knees so he was facing Slade.

“If I take this off, are you going to be a good boy for me and suck my cock?”

Dick nodded as vigorously as he could.

“Good boy.” Slade reached up and unbuckled the gag. Dick worked his jaw as soon as it was out, his stomach loosening as Slade gave him that little bit of control back. Slade wasted no time.

“Well? What do you say?”

“I want to suck your cock! Please, please Slade, I want your cock! Please!” Dick begged, and Slade’s grin was all possessive smugness.

“Oh, little bird. All you had to do was ask.” Slade’s gaze flicked up over Dick’s shoulder and his grin widened. “Why don’t you help him down?”

M’s hands settled around Dick’s hips and pulled him up so his ass was tight against his crotch, and Dick grinned at the feeling of M’s erection pressing into ass.

“Open up.” M whispered in Dick’s ear before slamming him down, half-guiding and half-shoving him onto Slade’s cock. Dick let out a choked sound as M pushed him down, angling his head in exactly the right way for Slade to press all the way down into his throat, pushing his tongue flat against the bottom of his mouth and stretching his lips out wide. He did his best to adjust to the fact that there was suddenly an entire cock in his mouth, putting all his effort into relaxing as Slade’s dick rearranged the lining of his throat.

“Good boy.” Slade said, and Dick had no idea which of them he was talking to. Slade pulled out slowly, gripping Dick by the hair to keep his head in place. Slade gave Dick about a half-second to breathe before shoving back in, setting a new pace that made Dick’s stomach flip. M’s tongue flicked out, licking all the way across Dick’s asshole and a shiver raced through his body. Slade took that as an invitation to ram his cock even further down Dick’s throat and suddenly it took all his attention not to choke on Slade. Luckily, he’d had plenty of practice suppressing his gag reflex and Slade used that to his advantage, pressing deeper until Dick’s nose was pressed into Slade’s crotch.

Slade’s hand tangled in Dick’s hair, tugging sharply as he thrust in and out. Dick’s breath caught when M ground himself up against his ass, tip pressing against his hole.

And then M was inside him, filling him up and stretching him out as Dick choked on Slade’s cock. M might not have been able to pound him as hard as Slade could, but he was bigger and thicker and the stretch burned even after Slade’s earlier assault.

“Fuck, birdie, your ass is amazing. Fucking perfect.” M grunted and the praise sent a thrill rushing all the way down his spine.

Slade adjusted his pace so every thrust buried his cock in Dick’s throat and it barely took M and second to match him perfectly. Between the friction building in his ass, the fingers gripping his thighs tight enough to burn, the hands wrenching at his hair, and the cock fucking in and out of his mouth, Dick was overwhelmed by the conflicting waves of pleasure and pain.

“You look so good like this,” M panted, keeping up that brutal pace that left Dick helpless between the two of them, M pounding into him from the back and Slade forcing his head still while he fucked Dick’s throat like he’d been built to be a cock sheath.

M’s hand slapped Dick’s ass, a thunderclap echoing through the room as the sharp pain made Dick arch, throat muscles convulsing as he tried to yelp around the enormous cock in his mouth. Slade groaned in pleasure, the hand in Dick’s hair tightening and yanking until Dick had tears in his eyes.

“I think he liked that, didn’t you, pretty bird?” Slade’s voice was evil. It was pure evil. Slade knew what that purr did to him, the deep, perfectly smooth voice that was so totally in control, reminding Dick that he was just a toy for Slade to use however he wanted, that M’s presence was about his pleasure as much as it was for Slade to have an audience to show off his control… if Dick got any harder, he was going to explode.

Dick tried his best to hum in agreement, bound hands flexing behind his back. Slade chose that moment to ram back in so Dick choked on the sound, the rush of air from his nostrils fluttering against Slade’s pubes.

M’s hand slammed down again and Dick keened, ass clamping down M’s cock while the muscles in his throat clenched around Slade. M moaned, burying himself deeper but Slade let out a slow exhale; the kind of exhale that meant his control was fraying, barely held together by a string, and a rush of adrenaline shot through Dick. He let out a moan, the kind of whimpering, desperate, pleading sound that a dying animal would make and he saw the moment Slade went over the edge. An animalistic light took over, his eye blazing with aggression.

Slade’s hands gripped Dick’s head hard enough to bruise as he picked up the pace, pounding into him in a frenzy that M somehow managed to match. Dick gagged and choked, desperate pleading sounds escaping him as they railed into him, and that was EXACTLY what he wanted.

Choking on Slade’s cock, his lips stretched so wide they ached while his throat felt more and more abused, with M splitting him apart from the back, pushing so deep into him and slamming against his prostate with every thrust, both of them roughly fucking him as hard as they could. Dick’s eyes were shut, pleasure and pain overwhelming all of his senses, the rough grunts building until all three of them were on the edge.

Dick came first, nearly gagging on his own scream as the pleasure slammed through him. Through the white-hot haze of his climax, he could hear both men groaning as he tightened around them. As Dick was coming down, he felt Slade’s hands digging into his throat and then he came too, emptying hot cum down Dick’s sore, abused throat. Dick swallowed on reflex, brain stuck between waves of aftershock and the way M was still slamming into him.

Dick couldn’t stop the whimper as M kept pounding him, toes curling and his hands grabbing desperately at empty air as the sensations started to become too much. Slade pressed himself deeper into Dick’s mouth, pinning him in place so Dick couldn’t get enough air in.

M kept going, keeping up the frantic pace until Dick’s skin was crawling and he shuddered, body trembling as the overstimulation built. But it wasn’t until Slade reached down, hand closing around Dick’s oversensitive cock that Dick mewled desperately, tears dripping down his face as he writhed and cursed the fact that he was suspended helplessly between the two of them.

“That’s a good boy. Take him.” Slade crooned in that evil, horrible voice that made Dick desperately wish he still had anything left in him. “Let him tear you apart like the perfect little slut you are.”

Dick shuddered, the words ripping through the last of his control like a chainsaw and he let out a choked sob, muscles seizing involuntarily and that was all M needed to push him over the edge. M’s hips stuttered before he came, pelvis rocking against Dick’s thighs as he rode out his orgasm. Slade drove his own hips forwards, forcing Dick to grind down even harder on M’s cock, chuckling in sadistic pleasure as Dick let out another whimper.

He held him there until M finally relaxed, releasing the fingers that were digging into Dick’s thighs hard enough to bruise.

“You did so good, little bird.” Slade praised before pulling out completely and Dick gasped, coughing as he could finally breathe uninhibited. M’s fingers stroked down Dick’s spine, the gentle caress making him shiver.

“God you’re so perfect.” M breathed, in a voice full of awe. “Maybe we _should_ just leave you here.”

“That is quite a thought.” Slade agreed, teasingly dragging a finger across Dick’s lip. “What do you think, little bird?”

Dick didn’t have the energy to respond, he just let out a soft grunt while his face buried itself into Slade’s lap. Slade carded his hands through Dick’s hair, stroking softly and in that moment, Dick felt nothing but bliss. With Slade’s thighs straddling his head, his still-dripping cock pressing against Dick’s cheek as his hand petted his hair, and M boxing him in on the other side, still buried to the hilt inside him while his hand stroked up and down his back, he felt cared for. Adored. Sore as all fuck and used in every sense of the word, but so completely safe.

Even when M pulled out and hot cum dripped out of his hole, cooling against his thighs, he felt perfectly fine.

Which is probably why all three of them were surprised when he started crying.

In a few seconds, Dick went from languishing in between them to full-on sobbing in Slade’s lap. M reacted first, reaching up and freeing Dick’s hands in an instant so Dick was free to bury his face in them, his entire body trembling.

“Bluebird, what’s wrong?” M asked, sounding so concerned it made Dick’s heart ache. His hand stroked along Dick’s back, rubbing in soothing circles but it just made everything worse.

Dick gasped for air, tears pouring down his face so hard he couldn’t speak. Slade took control, fingers gripping Dick’s chin and forcing his head back to he had to meet Slade eye.

“Dick. Talk to us.” Slade ordered and Dick fought to put the words together.

“I killed you.” He gasped out, choking on the hot, salty tears filling his throat. “I… I killed you.”

Slade blinked at him for a moment.

“Well considering the fact that I seem to be perfectly alive and well, I’m going to need you to explain that one.”

Dick sobbed, trying to bury his head again but Slade wouldn’t let him. M moved forward, sliding higher on the bed so he could pull Dick upright and drag him into his lap. Dick tried to protest, but Slade caught his wrists and held them still. Dick still felt so very, very small sandwiched in between them but now he was drowning, guilt and self-hatred crashing over him in never-ending waves.

M’s hand was holding him firm, keeping him pressed against his bare chest while his hand combed through his hair gently. Dick slumped forward, unable to fight back the sobs.

“Little bird.” Slade’s thumb swiped through his tears. “What’s wrong?”

“You came for me.” Dick whimpered and not even he knew where the words were coming from. “I fucked up and you came, and I was… there was nothing I could do.”

Dick’s chest hitched, a sob cutting off his next words.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Slade promised, his words as solemn as a vow. “You know that.”

“No!” Dick sobbed, fighting to pull away and helpless as he stared into Slade’s steady gaze. “I… you shouldn’t have come! I was fine, I… I had… Jay was the backup plan and it would’ve been fine and then you… everyone was about to kill each other and it would’ve been… I saw… it was my fault!”

Slade snorted and the amusement in his voice stopped Dick dead.

“Kid, it’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than a standoff to get rid of me.”

“And did you really think there’s any way in hell I would’ve let it happen?” Midnighter asked, and Dick jumped because he’d forgotten M was there, even with the hand still running through his hair and the firm grip keeping him upright.

Slade reached up, his hands pushing strands of Dick’s hair out of his face before bending down to press a kiss into his forehead.

“We’ve got you.” Slade promised, and god help him, Dick believed him. “I know this wasn’t your plan. Things go wrong. You know that. But you’ve got me.”

“And me.” M reminded him, pressing a firm kiss into his jawline. Dick trembled, taking in a heaving breath that turned into a watery chuckle as the relief sunk deep into his bones. The three of them sat there while Dick pulled himself back together, M stroking his hair while Slade kept a firm hold on his wrists. Finally, Dick felt calm enough to take a deep breath and exhale it sharply.

“The bazooka’s fake.” He rubbed his eyes when Slade released him, a shaky grin on his face.

“What?”

“You looked worried before. That bazooka’s fake. It shoots rubber chickens.”

M snorted, and Dick grinned at the disgusted look on Slade’s face.

“Rubber chickens.” Slade repeated like the words burned him to think, let alone say. Dick grinned as he sniffed and wiped the last of the tear tracks away.

“Sometimes they explode,” he offered like that would somehow make it better. Slade blinked before shaking his head in a clear decision not to ask.

“Not that the logistics of vulcanized fowl aren’t fascinating, but some of us need a shower.” M drawled, and Dick leaned back against his chest just because he could, enjoying the feeling as the older man stroked his fingers across his pecs.

“That’s an excellent idea.” Slade agreed. “Go start it, I need to change the sheets before anyone’s lying down.”

“You’ll both be here?” Dick blurted before he could stop himself. Both men turned to look at him with matching looks of incredulity. “In the morning, I mean.”

“Kid. It’s my safehouse.” Slade reminded him, brushing back a piece of his hair. “Besides, I paid two million for the pleasure of your company, I’d feel a little cheated if I only got one night.”

“So it’s settled. Shower, bed, and in the morning, Slade’s making waffles.” M grinned, putting a hand on Slade’s knee while his thumb rubbed gentle circles into the joint.

“Am I now?” Slade shot back, unimpressed. M shrugged.

“Fine. I’ll make waffles.”

“And then sex?” Dick grinned.

M and Slade turn to each other, a wicked look passing between them that made Dick’s heart race with excitement even as his ass throbbed.

“I think that can be arranged.” Slade promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this has been fun. As it turns out, I'm addicted to Sladicknighter, and so I've decided to write another fic. If you want to see more of this pairing, stay tuned for my Whumptober fic which will be mostly Sladick but with some super fun Sladicknighter noncon at the beginning. 
> 
> Okay, that's all. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this fic that has permanently turned me into a porn writer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thus ends the plot part. The next chapter is just porn. Filthy, vivid, explicit pwp, you've been warned now and you'll be warned again. Tags will update after I finish writing it. If you have problems with that, that's between you and whatever deity you believe in.


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